The Duke of the East received Eli's urgent letter two days after Arion's escape. The runner, pale and exhausted, delivered the sealed parchment directly into the Duke's hand. He read the terse report twice, his jaw tightening into a knot of cold fury. He didn't shout or pace; the time for emotional displays was over. Arion had ceased to be a son and had become a variable—a volatile, moving threat.
"Bartholomew," the Duke commanded, his voice unnaturally calm, "Send for Lord Torvin and Lady Lyly. Immediately. And increase the security on all communications. No one is to know of this."
When his children arrived, their faces etched with worry and defiance, the Duke was already standing by a large map of the kingdom, a dagger point tracing the impossible route from the Northern Lodge toward the Western Capital.
"Arion has fled," the Duke stated, without preamble, watching his children's reactions.
Lyly gasped, but Torvin's eyes lit with a grim understanding. "Where? To the Capital? To seek aid from Cassian?" (!!? No way)
"Worse," the Duke sneered, driving the dagger tip into the heart of the Western Capital. "Eli's note suggests they took the mountain passes. He is heading directly into the hottest zone of the Brother's War. He is heading toward Kyon."
Maeva, who had followed her children, stepped forward, her voice low and steady. "He is not going to Kyon for aid, Father. He is going for vengeance. He knows the existence of Aiden is the ultimate weapon."
"Precisely," the Duke said, turning to face them. "And that weapon, if used prematurely, will ruin us all. If Kyon or Cassian discover that the Dragon Slayer survived, that he was turned into an omega, and that he birthed Kyon's child a child who legally outranks Cassian the resulting political chaos will dissolve the kingdom. Both princes will turn their armies on the East for concealing him."
Torvin ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in thought. "Then we must intercept him. We must bring him back and hide him deeper."
"Impossible," the Duke dismissed with a sharp wave of his hand. "He is moving through the wilderness. He moves like a shadow; no conventional patrol will find him. We must assume he is already a ghost and prepare for his reappearance."
He looked at Lyly, the strategist in the family. "Lyly, you return to the university dorms immediately. Resume your studies. But you will use your network to gather information on the war. What is Kyon's daily routine? What is Cassian's most crucial weakness? I need intelligence on the precise moment of Kyon's vulnerability."
Lyly nodded, her mind already racing. "I can do that, Father. I have contacts in the Capital's merchant guilds and among the student body. I can feed false intelligence to both sides to mask our true movements, or Arion's."
The Duke then focused on Torvin, the martial heir. "Torvin, you will officially take command of the Eastern Garrison. You will begin discreetly moving our most loyal, specialized scouting troops men who can operate in the high passes to the border regions. Not to find Arion, but to create a safe corridor for his eventual reappearance."
The Duke lowered his voice, his gaze meeting Torion's with chilling intensity. "Your brother gave me a choice: either remain static and be shamed, or use this disaster to our advantage. If Arion succeeds in creating enough chaos, the East might be the only stable power left. But we cannot allow Kyon to be completely eliminated before Arion strikes. The kingdom needs a villain to rally against. Our true target is Kyon's complete, public discrediting not his death."
He hammered his fist lightly on the table. "I want to ruin his legitimacy, destroy the belief in his divine right, and shatter the Western Alliance's faith in him. If Arion forces Kyon to publicly acknowledge the child and the truth of his chemical tampering, Kyon's reputation as a pure alpha leader will be destroyed."
Maeva stepped forward one last time, her voice firm. "We will do this. But Arion is still hurt. He is not fighting alone. We are his shield."
The Duke finally nodded, a flicker of something akin to paternal concern crossing his harsh features. He looked at the map, focusing on the distant, dangerous path Arion was taking. He hated the cost, hated the means, but he loved the objective: the preservation of his House.
"Then go," the Duke commanded, his voice a low growl of pure political resolve. "The Dragon Slayer is moving. Let the whispers of treason begin to guide the armies, but ensure they never point back at the East. We are simply preparing for a post war kingdom."
Seems like Arion family doesn't know the whole story about their son(…) .